(Love Is) Whatever You Make It to Be
by never-believer
Summary: It's no secret that Iason never shied away from physical means of punishing Riki, but who cleaned up afterward? How might things have gone if Iason's good friend Raoul were tasked with the job? Part of the Six Different Ways series; explores what the chemistry between Raoul and Riki might be like with a little more mutual interest and more time spent together.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story is a part of a kind of series I'm doing called "Six Different Ways" (after the Cure song :3) in which I explore the dynamics in six different "pairings"/the interactions between two particular characters in an at least semi-romantic context**** (see profile for list)**. This one will probably be really long, others will be shorter; it just depends on how developed the idea for the plot gets in my head, though again the focus is on the hypothetical, totally non-canon relationship between the characters. 

**I will be posting the stories separately to avoid confusion about pairings. Each story in the series stands alone and is not intended to mesh chronologically with the others; this just happens to be the first one for which I have completed the first chapter. Oh, and please enjoy! ^_^ **

**Pairing: Raoul x Riki (kind of); implied Iason x Riki**

**Rated: M to be safe**

**Disclaimer: Standard I don't own etc.**

* * *

Riki lay dazedly on Iason's large bed. If you had asked him not too long ago if he thought he was tough, he would have given you a very unimpressed, perhaps even condescending look. He had been the leader of Bison, the top gang in the slums, and that had meant a lot of fighting, virtually non-stop fighting. Getting into street fights, getting ambushed, planning his own offensives: Riki had done it all more times than he could count. He thought he was used to physical exertion. To physical pain.

But Blondie beatings were something else. He had been dragged into the heart of Tanagura, into Eos, the playground of the elite of the elite and their Pets, by none other than that damned Blondie that had so grievously sexually humiliated him all those months ago, and who apparently, _insanely_, seemed intent on turning Riki into his Pet. Into his brainless, helpless sex toy. Well, Riki was having none of that. While he couldn't exactly control his natural reactions to the Blondie's remarkably adept stimulations, he had sworn to himself to resist in every other possible way.

And so it had happened that just last night Iason had tried to kiss him, mouth to mouth, for the first time, and Riki had bitten down, hard, on the other man's bottom lip. Unsurprisingly, that did not end so well for him. At first, of course, he had felt quite triumphant, but that vanished quickly at the start of Iason's backlash. Or lashes, he should say. Multiple lashes. With a whip. Followed by a multitude of other techniques and instruments that Riki was pretty damn sure came close to approaching torture. When it had finally ended Riki's body was incapable of moving, and his brain incapable of producing speech. He had lain limp like a doll when Iason had lifted him up and carried him to his own bed. Not long after that, he had fallen into the unconscious, painless bliss of sleep.

Now, however, he was unfortunately awake again, and things were starting to hurt. To be more accurate, _everything_ hurt. He felt like one massive bruise, and though the pain was thankfully oddly dulled, it was agonizingly all-pervasive. Even his bones ached; Iason's thrashing had jarred his smaller, and he hated but had to admit much frailer (at least in comparison), frame down to its very core. And Iason hadn't even seemed that angry; Riki was disturbingly certain that the man was more than capable of doing far more damage than he had the other night.

He shuddered involuntarily but managed to suppress a groan as he wished he could fall asleep again. But then his attention was snared by the sound of voices approaching the other side of the bedroom door. He was unable to do more than briefly contemplate making a wild run for it before the door opened and an all-too-familiar Blondie stepped inside, but this time followed by a second, not at all familiar Blondie.

An indignant energy stirred within him, and he somehow found the strength to sneer, "So you've brought one of your friends to show off your handiwork? I'm not a fucking zoo exhibit, you know."

Iason's friend, if that was what he was, looked repulsed, but Iason merely replied calmly, "Then perhaps you ought to act less like an animal. Biting people hardly helps your case."

Riki snarled in response, but Iason just continued to gaze down at him nonchalantly. "Nor does that."

He then gestured at his companion to move toward Riki, and the other man did so, though with obvious reluctance.

"Riki, this is my very dear friend Raoul," he introduced with a pleasant lilt in his voice, though it was undergirded by uncompromising steel. This was also accompanied by the transformation of his impassive gaze into an icy, warning glare. "I expect you to treat him with the utmost respect and _will not tolerate _anything less. Do you understand?"

He understood all right, but he sure as hell wasn't going to give the bastard the satisfaction of having his implicit threats explicitly acknowledged. He did restrain the 'fuck you' that he had been half considering throwing back at him, however. Instead, he made a scoffing sound and turned his head to face the other side of the room.

Then he heard a chair being pulled up to the side of the bed, and felt the tickle of smooth Blondie hair gliding across his arm as the man leaned forward over him. He was going to ask what the hell the man thought he was doing and whether he was just a fucked up sadistic pervert like Iason when he heard some clacking metal sounds, and turned his face back to see the man looking through a medical kit. So he was a doctor?

Riki found himself relaxing at the thought. Aside from the possibility that he was here to do some weird experiments on him, Iason wouldn't be inviting a doctor over for any other reason than to help him. The man pulled out a scanning-type instrument and proceeded to examine the various areas of Riki's body, first his right arm, then his head, then his left arm, torso, right leg, left leg. Riki lay still, passively allowing the inspection.

"Well, nothing's broken, at least," he declared, "But the bruising is rather extensive. I believe there might even be some deep-tissue damage."

Neither Riki nor Iason offered any verbal response to his statement, and after a few moments of silence he reached out with his gloved hands. Riki was about to protest, shying away from the touch, but then the fingers made contact with his skin. The touch was incredibly gentle, and the silken gloves added to the effect so that Riki could have sworn he was being caressed by the air itself. With deft movements fingertips danced sweetly over what had been the most painful areas of his body, making them tingle almost pleasurably.

He felt actual disappointment when the man pulled back. "I think a simple serum to clear up the blood and accelerate tissue repair will do the trick, as he doesn't seem to have any major open wounds, though I'd like to take a look at the gashes in his back after I administer it." He looked up at Iason for confirmation, and after receiving his nod of approval he turned his attention back to his medical kit.

Riki studied him while he was working. _'Raoul… the Blondie doctor…'_ he thought to himself, eyes lingering on those oh-so-gentle fingers as they carefully added some liquid chemical substance to a beaker. He had thought that Iason was the epitome of Blondie-ness, of all elite-hood. That all elites were cold, harsh, stuck up, entitled, ruthless, perverse excuses for sentient beings, and he had just happened to have the misfortune of running into their leader, the coldest, harshest, most stuck up, entitled, ruthless, and perverse one of them all. But this Raoul was giving him a different picture. While he certainly seemed to share Iason's disdain for mongrels and put off the same stuck up air, there was something distinctly less cold, and more vitally, less _cruel_ about him.

Riki's study of Raoul's figure slowly shifted away from his fingers to other parts of his body. He had a build very similar to Iason's: strong arms, noticeable biceps, a torso one just knew was well-defined without having to see it, broad shoulders, a carefully sculpted face, and… brilliant green eyes. Riki found himself staring openly at the emerald irises, the likes of which, as with Iason's glacial blues, he had never seen anything close to in the slums. Rather than coldly gleaming with reflected light the way Iason's did, Raoul's eyes seemed to sparkle with their own internal warmth.

Suddenly, he wanted those warm green eyes to sparkle _at_ him. And not just once; he wanted them to look at him all the time, to watch him like Iason's did in their far more fear-inducing way. Speaking of which… He subtly adjusted his vision so that he could see Iason without altering the position of his eyes. The other man was indeed watching him, apparently having taken notice of Riki's inspection of his friend. And judging from the look on his face, he wasn't too happy about it.

Riki resisted the urge to smirk as it occurred to him that he could kill two birds with one stone: get Raoul's attention and piss Iason off at the same time.

"Hey, Raoul," he said, trying to sound casual though his smugness must have been very thinly veiled and all too easy to see through.

"Master Am," Iason corrected him threateningly, but Riki ignored him.

"You keep Pets too, right?"

"Hmm…? Yes, of course," Raoul replied absently, focusing on mixing a few different substances and drawing them up into a syringe. He then leant forward and pricked the needle into Riki's arm, and Riki felt a thrill of victory as those eyes met his own at last. "Why do you ask?"

"Want another one?" he asked with a cheeky grin, half watching Iason through his peripheral vision. The man reacted just as he had hoped, a full frown instantly overtaking his features. He slapped Riki's thigh with the back of his hand, using unreserved force that rippled through the smaller man's whole body.

"Iason! Not while I'm injecting him please!" Raoul exclaimed, his left hand jumping from where it had been resting on Riki's upper arm to hold his shoulder down more firmly.

"You may stop now; I believe he has received all the treatment he deserves," Iason stated, cold eyes locked on Riki's.

"Nonsense; his physical health is not something he must 'earn' back. The injuries themselves are meant to be the punishment, not the recovery process."

If Riki was ever going to willingly kiss a Blondie, it would be this one, at this moment. Raoul seemed to barely give a thought to what he was saying, and it was clear that he wasn't trying to deliberately contradict or pick a fight with Iason. But still, for how good it made Riki feel he might as well have hauled off and punched Iason in the face and ordered him to never even think about abusing a human being in such a way again.

"You sure you don't want another Pet?" he tried again, this time with more sincerity in his tone and expression.

Iason gave him a dangerous look, but Raoul quickly defused things.

"Stop that, your jaw is already bruised enough," he said. He dug around in his kit for a moment before pulling out a cold pack, "Here, ice it."

Riki obediently took the proffered item and held it against his face where the pain was still greatest. Raoul turned away from him and began instructing Iason on Riki's care regimen. Riki watched him talk, rather enamored by the way his expression lit up when talking about different possible treatments and their effects. _'He might not be the most socially open-minded, but he certainly seems to love his science.'_

"Or I can teach your Furniture directly," he was saying, and after Iason agreed to that and stepped out to call Daryl, Raoul came back over to Riki.

"Let's look at your back now, then," he said, and Riki rolled over compliantly. Raoul did interest him in his own right, but he wouldn't even try to deny that part of his motivation to be so cooperative with him was spite toward Iason. He had picked up on the fact that every little glance he gave the other man grated on his self-proclaimed master's nerves, and needless to say that only added to Raoul's appeal. _'After all, it's not like he would say anything about his creepy, obsessive jealousy in front of his 'very dear friend' now would he?'_ Riki had to expend some effort in holding back from snickering.

In the meantime, Iason had returned with Daryl, and Raoul was talking to him about the proper way to bandage Riki's back. Riki didn't bother to hide the little shivers that passed down his spine in reaction to the soft kneading motions of Raoul's fingertips on his back. Again, however, Raoul finished far too quickly, and before long he was packing up his kit and giving final instructions.

Riki silently weighed the options of saying anything. He could flirtingly say goodbye to Raoul, and momentarily cause Iason to gnash his teeth, but that would probably decrease the likelihood of him getting to interact with his new favorite Blondie in the future, as he knew Iason could be just as spiteful as he was, if not more, and he didn't have any particular desire to engage the man in a battle of wills. But he also wanted to say something to make Raoul remember him and _want_ to come back to see him.

In the end, though, he couldn't think of anything special and thus resigned himself to simple sincerity. "Raoul," he called, just as the man was about to exit the room with Iason. Both of the Blondies turned to face him, one with narrowing eyes, the other with eyebrows slightly raised. "Thank you," he said, almost meekly and feeling stupid. _'Way to make an idiot of yourself at the last minute,'_ he thought furiously. But with Raoul on his way out he had good reason to fear Iason's retaliation if he were too openly cocky about it. He was stubborn and spiteful, but not stupid.

Raoul gave him a polite nod, "Make sure you allow the Furniture to do what it needs to do, all right?"

Riki nodded back and the two Blondies left, leaving Riki alone with Daryl. He sighed wearily, settling back more comfortably into the bed, but there was also a small smile tugging at his lips. _'Maybe this place won't be so awful after all.'_


	2. Chapter 2

The next few days were designated as his recovery time by Raoul, which thankfully meant that Iason kept his distance for the most part. Having Daryl constantly hover over him was annoying, but a price he was more than willing to pay if Iason left him alone in exchange. Plus, he got to spend all day lying in bed, in what he supposed he could call "his" room, and as an added bonus, he got to see Raoul every evening when he came in to check up on him. Riki only wished he would stay for a little longer after the checkup, but even when Iason suggested that Raoul stay over for a glass of wine, Raoul would decline, explaining that he had other business to tend to.

And Riki believed him too. After questioning Daryl, (which he did rather extensively as it afforded him at least a small amount of entertainment, and if the boy was going to be invading his space anyway he might as well see what he could get out of him), he had discovered that Raoul was far more than just a medical professional, though considering his Blondie status Riki probably could have guessed as much.

According to Daryl, Raoul didn't just _own_ Pets: he _created_ them. As in created them from_ scratch_. He not only designed them, but actually put together the DNA and grew them in his lab at the Academy. Well, the S-Class ones anyway, most he simply bred the 'natural' way, but still, the idea that he was dealing with a man who could literally create living beings… He was like a god. He supposed their A.I. queen had done the same when creating the elites themselves, but still… A sentient being, in humanoid form, who had touched him, whom he had spoken to face to face… Riki didn't really think of himself as the existential type, but the idea was still pretty awe-inspiring.

Not that he felt entirely positive about this knowledge. He might have been more impressed before, when he was still enamored with the seemingly glamorous Pets (or at least their exotic female bodies) that he was able to catch a glimpse of by sneaking into auctions. Now that he was being treated as a Pet himself, though, he was starting to feel differently about the matter, and after meeting actual Pets he was starting to find it all more than a little disgusting. Even still, female Pets undeniably appealed to him, and thus his immature, or simply hypersexual side, was intrigued by Raoul's work. Perhaps reality hadn't quite sunk in yet.

But while he had nothing better to do than lie around thinking about Raoul, he could tell it wasn't exactly mutual. First of all, Raoul was obviously a lot busier than he was, which Riki had conceded was not really something he could do much about. But beyond that, Raoul seemed to be purposefully minimizing his interactions with Riki, and keeping the necessary ones as professional as possible. Riki could understand that when Iason was standing over them, watching their every move like a hawk, but even when the other Blondie was nowhere in sight Raoul would refuse to engage with Riki in any more intimate way than doctor and patient, and with each thwarted attempt Riki's frustration increased exponentially.

Though he had tried doubling and re-doubling his efforts, it seemed that the harder he tried the shorter Raoul became with him. Soon he was getting only monosyllabic replies, and by Riki's final recovery day the only responses he could extract were "Hm.", "Hmm…", and "Hmm?" Needless to say, he found this state of affairs highly unsatisfying, and was determined to get something more substantial out of the other man before the end of his last checkup.

So that was how he found himself sitting up in his bed, watching Raoul pack up his medical kit while an awkward silence hung between them. He had tried multiple times to get Raoul to speak actual words to him, but his efforts had continued to be unsuccessful. He was beginning to get desperate. What would happen when Raoul left? Now that he was better, Iason would feel free to do whatever he wanted, which was probably to force himself on him again, and seeing as Riki wasn't exactly planning to just let that happen, it would probably mean another beating, which, despite the relative pleasantness of the resulting recovery process, he still had no desire to re-experience.

With this train of thought running through his mind, he blurted out, "What if he does it again?"

As he probably should have expected, all he received in reply was, "Hmm?"

For some reason it made him angry. "So you're going to just let him beat me again? Can't add a little footnote to your care instructions? 'For best results, try not maiming your Pet in the first place.'" His voice had turned bitter, and suddenly it wasn't just about coaxing real words out of the other man anymore. Riki wanted to know whether he even cared about what happened to him.

Raoul looked up then, his body and expression tense. But he said nothing and quickly finished packing up. Riki felt hurt, which was stupid because he barely knew Raoul, who in all probability was just another Blondie bastard no different from Iason. His voice quavering slightly around the lump in his throat, he said quietly, in a slightly accusing tone, "You really don't care, do you?"

Raoul paused, though he looked ready to sweep the kit off the bed and hurry out of the room at any moment. "It is none of my business what Iason decides to do in his personal time. I have no say in it, and I would not presume to have the right to tell him what he ought or ought not to do." He spoke with a determined expression, but if it wasn't Riki's imagination there was a rather strained quality to his voice that sounded less annoyed and more… distressed?

Riki stared at him, but couldn't find any words to say. After hesitating a moment longer, Raoul swiftly made his way to the door, but stopped just before stepping out of it. He turned his face slightly toward Riki, though his eyes were cast down to the floor, as he said, "I will…suggest…to him that he find other means of discipline." And then he was gone, giving Riki no chance to reply.

_'Well, fuck.'_ Riki let his body fall back into the pillows with a thump. A bit later, he heard footsteps coming up to the open door of the room, and for one wild moment he thought it might be Raoul coming back. But of course, it was Iason.

"You've been given a clean bill of health," Iason informed him as he approached with the air of a predator. "And I've been advised to keep it that way," he added as he arrived at the bed. He sat down beside him and loomed over the smaller man, planting his arms on either side of him. "Let's try this again, shall we?" His voice was dangerous and Riki didn't even try to fight him off as he leant down to kiss him. He kept his lips stubbornly sealed, however, and refused to kiss back.

After a moment, Iason pulled back. "There. That wasn't so hard, now was it?" Riki just glared. "Not in the mood?" Iason asked, his faux-casual tone getting under Riki's skin. He leant down and whispered into his ear as his hand slid down Riki's torso to lower areas, "Let's see what we can do about that."

* * *

Every muscle in his body felt impossibly weak as he hung limply from the chains Iason had set up in the corner of his room. Riki's room was probably less than half the size of Iason's, but was still reasonably spacious. He had been trying to distract himself by comparing it with his apartment in Ceres, trying to figure out how much of his stuff there would fit into this space, but it only worked for a few seconds at a time before his body dragged his attention back to the state it was in.

Raoul's advice had apparently been heeded; Iason had not beaten him. Instead he had gone with what Riki was beginning to suspect was his favorite method of discipline: pain through pleasure. He had made Riki come so many times he had lost count, not stopping when Riki had finally caved and begged for mercy, past it being uncomfortable, up to the point that it _hurt_. He had stimulated and overstimulated every one of Riki's erogenous zones until the lightest of touches was agonizing.

When the torture had finally ended, Riki had been chained up in the corner of the room, and informed that he would be released in exchange for initiating a kiss. Well, no way in hell was he going to do that. So he was left hanging there in the dark, by himself. By this point, he could feel the shackles cutting into his wrists and his arms were aching horribly. Above the shackles, he could feel nothing more than puffed up hand-shaped tingling sensations. He could only stand for short periods of time to relieve the stress on his hands before his knees would give out again. He was really tired… He wasn't sure how long he had been left there; Daryl had come in twice with offerings of water, but Riki had refused both because he didn't want to have to give in from needing to go to the bathroom. His lips were getting chapped, and he really wanted a shower.

But he was _not_ going to kiss Iason. Not now, not ever. That thought was what kept his resistance up when all other means of attempting to distract himself failed. He perked up when he heard footsteps rapidly approaching the door. Maybe he would accept just a _swallow_ of water this time. He was really thirsty… The footsteps stopped. Then…

"Open this."

It was Raoul's voice, and he felt as though he could cry for joy.

"I really do wish I could, Master Am, but Master Iason-"

"I will handle that. You _open this door_."

Riki held his breath in the ensuing moment of silence, and then sighed with relief when he heard the sounds of Daryl opening the door.

He shut his eyes against the bright light from the hall as it flooded into the room, but forced them open when he felt gloved hands, so like Iason's and yet so different, cupping his chin. "Riki? Can you hear me?"

He tried to answer, coughed, but after swallowing several times managed to articulate, "Yes."

"Water," Raoul ordered, and Daryl hesitated only a moment before hurrying out of the room to comply.

The next few minutes were a blur. Daryl assisted him with drinking a glass of water while Raoul struggled with the shackles, finally managing to break through first one and then the other with the tools that Daryl had brought him. "This is really… beyond unbelievable…" he heard him muttering.

But at long last his arms came down, and he fell forward bonelessly against Raoul's chest. The other man carried him over to the bed and lay him down, almost immediately beginning to check him over, using the small emergency kit that was kept in the apartment. Riki cried out a few times when his hands brushed too close to certain still-sensitive areas, but otherwise he found it strangely relaxing. _'Just like old times,'_ he thought with equal amounts of misery and sarcasm.

He finished the checkup with his usual efficiency, bandaging Riki's wrists and applying some gel substance to his lips with one gloved thumb. "He seems to have kept to the letter of his word, if not the spirit," Raoul commented, likely in an attempt to distract the both of them from the fact of where one of his digits was currently located, "But then Iason has never really had any regard for the 'spirit' of the law… He tends to exploit loopholes wherever he can find them."

"I'm really glad you're here," Riki murmured, gazing at him. Raoul seemed slightly unnerved. "Unfortunately there's not much else I can really do for you; the best thing for your body now is just rest."

Riki nodded; he _was_ really tired. He supposed a shower could wait.

He woke up, he wasn't sure how long later, to the sound of his stomach growling. He was tempted to just stay in bed, but after sitting up and then standing to test his feet he figured he could make it to the kitchen. _'How long has it been since I last ate, anyway?'_ he wondered absently as he carefully made his way down the hall.

As he approached the door he heard voices, and after a split second debate he stopped just out of view by the doorframe.

"-just don't understand what you hope to accomplish with this brutality. I know I cannot tell you what to do, but I'm asking you again to please consider some other method of-"

"As I think you will have noticed in your thorough medical examination, I did in fact follow your instructions. Did you see a single scratch on him?"

"Unless you count the cuts on his wrists or his cracked lips, no."

Silence for a moment. Then, "I would never allow permanent damage to occur."

They fell quiet again after that, or if they were speaking, it was too quiet for Riki to hear. After a while, Raoul spoke again, a pleading note in his voice. "If you do not wish to hurt him, then don't. You do have a choice."

"If I do not properly punish him, he will never learn. You were the one who pointed out that if I wished to keep him he would have to be trained just like any other Pet."

"This is not how you would train any other Pet."

"And he is not like any other Pet; he is a mongrel. If you want him to turn out like the others, he needs more and more severe training; his starting point is much further back than is typically the case."

"I suppose…"

"Raoul." Another silence. Then Iason continued, "Do you really believe my aim in all this is solely to cause him suffering?"

A pause. And then, "No. I don't know what your aim is. But I do know that you are willing to make him suffer to achieve it, and that's what worries me. You didn't used to be like this."

Iason laughed, and an audible frown entered Raoul's tone. "What?"

"Now that you've mentioned it, I seem to recall having had a similar conversation before. If I remember correctly, you were concerned about my treatment of a certain Furniture. But at that time you were complaining I was too lenient." Iason gave a teasing laugh that sounded close to a sneer. "There's just no pleasing you, is there?"

"Iason…" he sounded exhausted, but his voice was imploring, "Why are you doing this?"

There was no response. "If it is only to shock people, or because you are bored, there must be-"

"I have my own reasons," Iason interrupted quietly, and Raoul cut himself off immediately.

There followed a very long silence, and Riki wondered if he should just go back to his room and come out again as though for the first time. But then he caught Raoul's voice again.

"I can see I will not be getting any more out of you tonight," he sounded like he was standing up, and Riki quickly began to make his retreat down the hall. As he slipped out of sight, he heard what might have been Raoul's farewell.

"Just please be careful. My concern is not merely for the mongrel, it is for your well-being as well."

Riki made it back into his bed and was able to settle in and pretend to be asleep before he heard Iason come in. He did his best to hold still and look relaxed at the same time, though he couldn't be sure of how successful he was. But if he had been too obvious, Iason did not call him out on it. He felt an ungloved hand, an unusual sensation, being run through his hair, and a kiss was pressed to his forehead. And then he simply walked out without a word, once again leaving Riki alone with his thoughts in his dark room.

* * *

A/N: I apologize for any typos I literally spent all day writing *dies* But as always let me know if you catch one! On the bright side you can expect yet another update very soon! ;D

& to CeCeRox: I wasn't able to reply to your review! :/ But thanks for the compliment! Honestly I didn't think anyone would really want to read this because, you know, Iason x Riki OTP 4ever, but it's good to know that there are other multishippers out there who like to try new things! ^_^

(not that there's anything wrong with wanting to defend your OTP, of course! :3)


	3. Chapter 3

Raoul paced around his office in agitation. _'Iason, you son of a bitch, what the hell are you thinking?!' _ Iason was the only person on the planet he could really call a _friend_, but that hardly made him infallible. In fact, Raoul knew the man's faults better than anyone, and now he was getting a close up demonstration of his more sinister side. He still couldn't believe it. A mongrel… a mongrel he had dragged off the streets and now kept locked up in his penthouse. What was he thinking? This creature was a descendant of rebellion; he had it in his blood. Trying to subdue it, to make it surrender to him completely… That went beyond being preposterous. It was cruel.

But unfortunately, the creature's presence was causing more urgent problems than the moral issues it brought up. Iason had not hidden it from the public eye, and though it had yet to make its debut it had already become the talk of Eos, and it had been hell for Raoul who had to field the curious questions and dispel the wild rumors about his friend, as Iason himself insisted upon being haughtily mysterious about the whole thing. _'Iason, you son of a bitch…'_

Why did he feel the need to do these sorts of things? It wasn't like this was the first time he had blatantly flaunted custom, however he usually only did it for political gain. But what advantage could the mongrel possibly bring him? If anything, he was a liability, a danger to Iason's reputation. Did his friend not see that? Or did he just not care? If that were the case, he was being awfully selfish, letting Raoul do all the panicking for him. _'Can't you care about yourself a little more…?'_

Raoul dropped heavily into his chair and stared blankly at the documents on his desk. Why had he thought it would be a good idea to be working on more than five projects simultaneously? Normally he only had two or three major ones going on at once, but for some reason several important things had come up at the same time, and he hadn't felt that any of them could be sacrificed or passed up, and now he was stuck. _'This was really the worst possible time for you to pull something like this, Iason.'_

But of course he couldn't blame his friend for his current workload, only the additional stress his new hobby put on top of it. The fact that he was completely swamped with no energy to spare for his friend's eccentricities was his own fault, and he knew that. With a burdened sigh he tried to focus on his work.

_"You don't care at all, do you?"_ Raoul twitched irritably as the mongrel's choked words rose up unbidden and echoed through his mind. He tried to suppress it. _'No, I'm not going to deal with this right now. I need to get some work done.'_

_"What if he does it again?"_ The image of the mongrel hanging lifelessly from his chains overtook the forefront of his mind. _'I'm really glad you're here.'_ Raoul let out a growl of frustration.

Unexpectedly, there came a knock on the door.

"What?" he called, more abrasively than he had meant to. But his ever-stoic furniture, Dien, seemed not to notice as he calmly opened the door.

"I apologize for interrupting, Master. Iason Mink wishes to see you; he says it's urgent."

Cursing under his breath, he nodded in dismissal at the furniture, who bowed and went off to attend to his other duties. Raoul suddenly remembered what those were and cursed again. He was debuting a new Pet today, an extremely histrionic one with short pink hair and lilac eyes whom he could not wait to be rid of. Part of him wanted to sell her to the first person who asked, but his more calculating side reminded himself that in reality she was probably worth quite a bit. Most elites seemed to prefer more dramatic, needy Pets, for reasons he could not fathom. But he was perfectly willing to deliver them, and this one, at least aesthetically, was a piece he was rather proud of, and was certain would fetch a good price, as long as he could resist the urge to throw her at the first person to show interest.

He didn't have time to worry about that now, though. The furniture could take care of getting the troublemaker and his two other Pets ready for the show that evening. For now, he had to find out what Iason wanted. He hoped he hadn't done something awful to the mongrel again…

Raoul had only happened to find him in that awkward experience a few days ago because he had come over hoping to speak with Iason, and had forgotten that he was off-planet that day, which the Furniture had reminded him after politely letting him in and serving him a glass of wine. That was when Raoul had felt something off in the oddly silent apartment, and asked about Riki. The Furniture's uncomfortable reactions had caused him to panic slightly, which was how he had ended up taking care of Iason's Pet again. But Iason hadn't asked him to return for another checkup, and after having already invaded his friend's privacy more than he could reasonably excuse, Raoul had decided not to press the matter. Iason would allow the mongrel to recover, surely, even if that didn't stop him from doing something else afterward.

He hurried out into the living room, where Iason was already seated, elbow resting on the armrest of the sofa and chin propped thoughtfully on his hand. When Raoul rushed in, he lifted his head regally, looking strangely calm for someone who supposedly had urgent business.

"Didn't you have a meeting today?" Raoul suddenly recalled out loud, confusion (and irritation) making him forget his manners for a moment. Iason raised his eyebrows at that, obviously surprised by the lack of formality; he often teased Raoul for being such a stickler for protocol and proper comportment. But he answered anyway, "I cancelled it. This was more important."

"And what is "this" exactly?"

"I was hoping to request a small favor of you."

Raoul nodded as he took a seat across from his friend, silently praying that he was not about to hear of some other abuse. Iason continued, "I want to have a Pet ring made for Riki. A D-class."

He blinked as Iason's words took a moment to click. _'Well, at least he hasn't done anything more yet,'_ he thought, with no small amount of sarcasm. But… "D-class?" Raoul repeated, frowning. Those were fitted to Pets' genitalia and intended more as method of discipline or simply greater control rather than as an accessory to show status, as they could not normally be seen. But while they existed in theory (that is, they were written in Pet Law), they had not been used in practice for a very long time, simply because they were no longer needed, which was largely thanks to selective breeding work like Raoul's, which favored the most dependent and shamelessly sexual Pets.

He was about to ask why, but thought better of it. This was Iason he was dealing with. He could use his imagination if he really wanted to know, which he didn't. "All right," he said instead, "Just let me know what custom features you would like and I will ensure that your order receives expedited processing."

A smile curved the edges of Iason's lips and for a moment it seemed to Raoul as though he were laughing at him. Before he could question him, though, a loud shriek pierced through the penthouse. Raoul groaned and slumped backward on the sofa cushions.

"Your new Pet?" Iason guessed, and Raoul no longer had any doubt that that was amusement he heard in his tone.

"Not mine for much longer, I do sincerely hope," Raoul deadpanned, staring at the ceiling.

"I could have guessed as much," Iason replied, still with that teasing edge to his voice.

With another heavy sigh, which he sadly doubted would be his last of the day, he forced himself to stand. "If you will excuse me," he ground out, but Iason only laughed. "Actually, I believe I will join you. I would rather like to have a sneak preview."

Raoul was in no mood to argue. "As you wish."

As they approached the Pets' quarters the fussing increased in volume, and when they stepped inside he saw the pink-haired demon-diva of a Pet flailing at the furniture, presumably trying to prevent it from putting a necklace it was holding around her neck.

"Please hold still, my Lady," Dien spoke as politely and emotionlessly as ever.

"NO! It doesn't MATCH!" she wailed, and Raoul winced, barely resisting the urge to cover his ears against her screeching.

"My, my, she's a lively one, isn't she?" Iason commented, enjoying the situation far more than what was called for.

At the sound of Iason's voice, the Pet went from a complete breakdown into seductive mode in less time than should have been physically possible, by Raoul's calculations. "Master!" she trilled happily. _'She knows her place, at the very least.'_

"What seems to be the problem here?" he asked tiredly.

"It seems the Lady would prefer a different piece of jewelry," his furniture reported. "She has expressed that she would rather wear something that matches her outfit."

Raoul held back another sigh, striding up to the furniture and taking the necklace from his hands. "I chose this because it matches your _eyes_, not your _clothes_," he informed the hopelessly stupid creature, waving the necklace around a bit for emphasis.

"Oooooh," she cooed melodiously, and cheerfully bounced up to him, holding her chin high. Raoul rather reluctantly put in on her himself. In his opinion, Pets were far nicer to look at than interact with, but sometimes it could not be avoided.

The Pet, apparently much more taken with the item now, turned to watch herself toy with the necklace in the large mirror that stood in the room. Glad to have at least that small crisis dealt with, Raoul turned his attention back to Dien. "And how are Gem and Seryn coming along?"

"They have been ready for quite some time now. As soon as I finish with these preparations I can take them all down to the showroom."

"Good, I will take a look at them now. Please try to have _her_ ready within the hour," he said as he turned to exit the room, ignoring the look of undisguised amusement on Iason's face. He didn't say anything as they headed into the next room to see Raoul's other two Pets, one of whom, Gem, he had had for some time now, and the other, Seryn, who was new, but whom he actually intended to keep.

When they entered, Gem, who was combing her long, wavy dark green hair, glanced up with her bright copper eyes and inclined her head politely before going back to what she was doing. Seryn, who was an S-class with long white hair and feathered wings, and was technically female in terms of genitalia but had the flat, slender torso of a male, watched them in that strangely sad way of hers with her crystal blue eyes, several shades lighter than Iason's.

"I trust all is well in here?"

Gem merely nodded. Though he knew her head was as empty as any other Pet's, Raoul felt her silence gave her an air of profundity which he was quite fond of. Seryn whispered, "Yes, Master," in her ethereal voice, gazing at them steadily from under long, white lashes. Raoul had originally intended to seek out potential pairing partners for her tonight, as this event was her debut as well, but then he had learned from some tests in the lab that she was sterile. He had been very upset at the news; after all the time he had spent slaving over the design of her wings he had hoped that he would be able to breed her, but now if he wanted to reproduce them he would have to go through it all over again, and also pay more attention to everything else that was developing to ensure the next one would be fertile.

But he brushed his regrets away. He didn't have time for them. "Good," he said mostly to himself, before turning to address Iason, "Shall we head back to the living room then? Perhaps have a glass of wine…?"

Iason was looking pensive now for some reason, but agreed. By the time they got themselves settled again, however, and Raoul had poured Iason his glass, the smile was back, playing around the other man's mouth. He was about to ask what he was thinking, when Iason spoke of his own accord.

"You're partial to the aloof type, aren't you?" he commented, still with that incomprehensible smirk on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," he said with a small laugh, "I had another, trivial concern I was going to discuss with you, but I see now that it is unnecessary. Although…"

"Yes?"

"I know it is very last minute, but might I add Riki's debut to tonight's events as well? I think I have him well enough under control to take him out for just the one night. And in any case I would like to get it over with."

Shocked, it took Raoul a moment to process what he had just heard. Debuts generally took a lot of preparation… Was Iason really just going to throw Riki up on stage and hope for the best? Moreover, if he had Riki "well enough under control" then why did he need a D-class Pet ring?

"I… well… if you're sure… At least, I don't have any objections…"

Smiling fully now, Iason stood up with a purposeful air. "Excellent. I suppose I have some preparations of my own to attend to then. I will see you tonight."

Raoul stared after his friend as he left the room, utterly baffled. _'What did I just agree to?'_ He replayed the last few minutes in his head. _'Another, trivial concern…'_ Raoul had a bad feeling that he knew what that was. He had noticed that the more attention the mongrel paid him, the angrier his friend seemed to become, so he had done his utmost to keep their interactions at the bare minimum, and unimpeachably professional. Of course, that unexpected little emergency probably hadn't helped, seeing as it probably looked to Iason as if Raoul had broken into his home to coddle his Pet, but… Now Iason had basically implied that it was suddenly no longer an issue… What had caused that change of heart?

A headache was beginning to pulse in his temples, and Raoul decided to let that issue go for now. _'That son of a bitch Iason… What goes through his head?'_ He doubted he'd ever understand.

* * *

A/N: Hey man, when I say 'soon' I don't dick around XP! But seriously, this is an exception and a result of my metaphorical blood, sweat, and tears. You may thank said bodily fluids, which will hopefully see a non-metaphorical shower in the near future. And they thank you for reading, 'cause why else would I post but to share ^^

Oh, and it might be a while before this gets updated again because I will be trying to work on other stuff, but we'll see if my brain cooperates :P


End file.
